


A Girl, Her Show, and the Radio

by twocupsoftea



Category: WKRP in Cincinnati
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twocupsoftea/pseuds/twocupsoftea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. What really happens when Andy talks to Bailey after the failure of Cincinnati Beat? Takes place during "Bailey's Show" in Season One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Girl, Her Show, and the Radio

**Author's Note:**

> tw: some mentions of anxiety & anxiety attacks. I plan to expand on this whole Bailey-dropped-out-of-med-school idea, if there's anywhere to go with it. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> P.S. I don't own Bailey or WKRP or anyone else in this story.

Venus pokes his head into the room at precisely the worst time. “How’s it going?” He’s smiling, but there’s an edge in his voice. Bailey knows that he knows, but lies anyway. 

“It’s okay.” She offers a weak toothy grin, and then looks away. “Well, not really.” She can sense that Venus is moving closer, but keeps her eyes on the poster in the corner of Travis’ office. Memorizing the edge, the tiny tear in the corner, the water stain along the side of the flimsy high-gloss paper. “The problem is…”, and she trails off, shifting her gaze from the poster and back to Venus. He raises his eyebrows. “Well,” she swallows. “the problem is, they’re all crazy.” 

At that moment, Jennifer peeks in and Bailey mumbles, “Send in the next one, Jennifer.” She rests her head in her cupped hands and sighs. 

“C’mon, Bailey, they can’t _all_ be nuts.” Venus tries to reassure her, but it doesn’t work. “Just keep trying! See what the next interview brings.” And when the door opens, and Mrs. Woodruff walks in, even Bailey has to admit that it seems promising. 

Until Mrs. Woodruff mentions Norruls. 

Venus leaves, and as the woman spins further into her spiral of space madness, Bailey feels herself losing hope. There’s no one in this town who can keep it together. Frustration and anger and sadness come in waves, and before she knows it, she’s chasing Mrs. Woodruff out of the room with promises to be in touch soon. 

Bailey collapses at Andy’s desk and rests her head against the cool metal. It feels so good to close her eyes, even for a fraction of a second—

A sharp knock forces her out of her reverie, and she sits up. “Come in,” she says, fully expecting another half-wit to bring her another unbelievably inane story. 

Herb enters the room, and Bailey realizes that she was at least half right. “Bailey, I’ve got an idea.” Herb hangs on the doorjamb, dressed to the nines in his tacky-as-usual business suit and matching belt and shoes. Les’ ideas make Bailey nervous, but Herb’s ideas just make her angry. 

She’ll take anything at this point. 

“What, Herb?”

He grins. “I know who your first guest should be.” Bailey feels a pulse of excitement. “Me,” he says proudly, pointing to himself. 

She resists the urge to laugh, but a giggle escapes in spite of herself. “Oh, I don’t think it would be right for the first show,” and she watches his entire expression change. From hopeful to bored to angry. Herb trembles a little, and then he fires back angrily. 

“Well, you’re not in the position to choose.” And then Les shows up, confused as per usual. Herb turns to Les, enlists him in that moment as his ally, and begins to berate Bailey. “You’re in big trouble, _missy_.” He turned to Les. “Let’s go tell the Big Guy.” 

Les looks bewildered for a moment, and then follows Herb out of Andy’s office. 

\--

Bailey feels a pang, deep in her stomach. She’s not sure if Herb and Les could do any real harm to her career here, but the feelings come seeping back. Inadequacy. Anxiety. 

Failure. 

The tears are coming, her hands are shaking, her breath is short. A wave of nausea hits her, hard, and she struggles to keep her composure. But nobody’s looking, so she lets herself go. There’s a knock on the door, and then she hears the soft creak of the hinges as it opens. 

“Bailey?” It’s Andy, bless his soul. He’s come to check on her show. She doesn’t want to look at him, but she hears the swish of his jeans as he steps closer to the desk. “Is everything alright?” She turns her tearstained face towards him, and shakes her head. 

“Aw, Bailey,” he says quietly. “You can’t let those two get to you. Les and Herb, right? What did they say to you?” 

She shakes her head, not trusting herself to speak. She needs a moment, several maybe, but he’s still standing there in the doorway. Finally, she pulls up the courage. “Just give me a minute,” she croaks. Andy looks at his hands, and then the floor, and then back at her. 

“Okay,” he says, “but I’ll be back.” He walks out, closing the door behind him. As soon as she hears the soft thud, she rubs the heels of her hands over her eyes. Her makeup is running, but there’s no one to see as she drags tissues under her eyes. 

\--

“The girl is _crying_ , Mr. Carlson.” Andy’s face is set in a grimace. “What did you say to her, Herb?” 

Herb blames Les. And Les is genuinely confused, asking Andy to please explain what he’s talking about. Andy sighs, and turns his attention back to Herb. Mr. Carlson sits back, watching the exchange, until the solution becomes obvious to him. 

“Herb, leave Jennifer alone. And Andy, tell this Bailey guy to pull himself together! I want to talk to Bailey himself!” Andy tries to talk, but Mr. Carlson shoos him out of his office. 

Andy stands in the hallway for a few moments, pondering his options. He would prefer not to go back to his office anytime soon, but this thing needs to be resolved. And the sooner, the better. He also feels kinda bad, just leaving Bailey. 

He sighs, and starts to walk down the long hall to his office.

\--

Her emotions are getting the better of her. Bailey clutches the edge of the desk with white knuckles, willing the nausea to go away. The door opens without warning, and her nausea spikes. Andy stands in front of her. 

Bailey’s shaking and she’s white as a sheet. Andy walks a little closer, and sits in the interview chair. “Bailey. Take a deep breath.” But she can’t. She’s too caught up in the moment. 

It’s an anxiety attack. She learned how to identify them last semester, before she dropped out, when journalism was just something to add an edge to her resume. The white noise machine, and Dr. Patrick…it was so clinical then, and it's so real now. Andy's looking at her with a mix of worry and bemused pity. 

He feels bad for her. 

“Look,” he says, his drawl heavier than ever, “I’m not supposed to say this. But it’s just a dumb radio show, Bailey. I’m not even sure people are listening.” He moves from the interview chair to the corner of his desk, and puts his hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you calm down and tell me what this is all about?” 

Bailey squeezed her eyes shut and tried to picture the poster again. The soggy, yellowed edge. The miniscule rip. If she forces herself to recall every agonizing detail, maybe she’ll be able to find her footing again. 

And the nausea recedes, her breathing slows. She focuses, hard, on the tear, and she feels a little closer to normal. She opens her eyes, finding the poster, and allows the hint of a smile to dance across her face. She turns towards Andy, who looks puzzled. “I’m okay,” she insists. “Really, Andy. I’m sorry I worried you.”

He shakes his head, though. “Is there something else that’s bothering you?” His hand makes its way down from her shoulder to the tip of her shoulder blade, and back. He draws lazy circles on her back and asks, “Or is it only…this show?” 

She looks into her hands, contemplating whether she trusts him to tell him. Carlson doesn’t even know. As far as everyone is concerned, she took a while to get through journalism school. She looks up into his deep brown eyes and decides that yes, maybe he would be willing to keep a secret for her. 

“Andy,” she says quietly, “this is kind of…something.” His face remains unchanged. “Last semester, I dropped out of school. For a lot of reasons.” His hand freezes on her back. “I failed the boards. And my finals. It was just…I couldn’t keep up with everyone else. I don’t know how they did it. But my life was something I didn’t want. So I left.”

Andy’s quiet for a moment. “But I thought you graduated from Ohio State Journalism School. It’s on your resume.” He pulls both his hands into his lap. 

“Oh no, I did. I really did, Andy. I was talking about med school.” Bailey smiles sadly, and continues. “But this show, it’s just another failure. And believe me, I’m trying to be positive. No sad-sack stuff. But I’ve lost so much not so long ago, and I don’t want to lose this too.”

Andy stands up, pulling Bailey up with him. “Bailey Quarters, that’s what you’re worried about? You’re one of the sanest people here.” He grins. “You’re stuck here with us now. And there’s still a few people out there to be interviewed. You talk to them, and I’ll take care of Carlson and Les and Herb.” He lets go of her hands, and starts to walk out the room. 

“Andy, wait,” Bailey calls after him. “You won’t bring up….” she trails off. 

Andy smiles and shakes his head. “Of course not.” He wrinkles his brow and asks, “A doctor? Really?”


End file.
